There was so much to think about.

How was I going to find time alone to hunt down J. Jenks, and why did Alice want me to know about him?

If Alice’s clue had nothing to do with Renesmee, what could I do to save my daughter?

How were Edward and I going to explain things to Tanya’s family in the morning? What if they reacted like Irina? What if it turned into a fight?

I didn’t know how to fight. How was I going to learn in just a month? Was there any chance at all that I could be taught fast enough that I might be a danger to any one member of the Volturi? Or was I doomed to be totally useless? Just another easily dispatched newborn?

So many answers I needed, but I did not get the chance to ask my questions.

Wanting some normality for Renesmee, I’d insisted on taking her home to our cottage at bedtime. Jacob was more comfortable in his wolf form at the moment; the stress was easier dealt with when he felt ready for a fight. I wished that I could feel the same, could feel ready. He ran in the woods, on guard again.

After she was deeply under, I put Renesmee in her bed and then went to the front room to ask my questions of Edward. The ones I was able to ask, at any rate; one of the most difficult of problems was the idea of trying to hide anything from him, even with the advantage of my silent thoughts.

He stood with his back to me, staring into the fire.

“Edward, I—”

He spun and was across the room in what seemed like no time at all, not even the smallest part of a second. I only had time to register the ferocious expression on his face before his lips were crushing against mine and his arms were locked around me like steel girders.

I didn’t think of my questions again for the rest of that night. It didn’t take long for me to grasp the reason for his mood, and even less time to feel exactly the same way.

I’d been planning on needing years just to somewhat organize the overwhelming passion I felt for him physically. And then centuries after that to enjoy it. If we had only a month left together… Well, I didn’t see how I could stand to have this end. For the moment I couldn’t help but be selfish. All I wanted was to love him as much as possible in the limited time given to me.

It was hard to pull myself away from him when the sun came up, but we had our job to do, a job that might be more difficult than all the rest of our family’s searches put together. As soon as I let myself think of what was coming, I was all tension; it felt like my nerves were being stretched on a rack, thinner and thinner.

“I wish there was a way to get the information we need from Eleazar before we tell them about Nessie,” Edward muttered as we hurriedly dressed in the huge closet that was more reminder of Alice than I wanted at the moment. “Just in case.”

“But he wouldn’t understand the question to answer it,” I agreed. “Do you think they’ll let us explain?”

“I don’t know.”

I pulled Renesmee, still sleeping, from her bed and held her close so that her curls were pressed against my face; her sweet scent, so close, overpowered every other smell.

I couldn’t waste one second of time today. There were answers I needed, and wasn’t sure how much time Edward and I would have alone today. If all went well with Tanya’s family, hopefully we would have company for an extended period.

“Edward, will you teach me how to fight?” I asked him, tensed for his reaction, as he held the door for me.

It was what I expected. He froze, and then his eyes swept over me with a deep significance, like he was looking at me for the first or last time. His eyes lingered on our daughter sleeping in my arms.

“If it comes to a fight, there won’t be much any of us can do,” he hedged.

I kept my voice even. “Would you leave me unable to defend myself?”

He swallowed convulsively, and the door shuddered, hinges protesting, as his hand tightened. Then he nodded. “When you put it that way… I suppose we should get to work as soon as we can.”

I nodded, too, and we started toward the big house. We didn’t hurry.

I wondered what I could do that would have any hope of making a difference. I was a tiny bit special, in my own way—if a having a supernaturally thick skull could really be considered special. Was there any use that I could put that toward?

“What would you say their biggest advantage is? Do they even have a weakness?”

Edward didn’t have to ask to know I meant the Volturi.

“Alec and Jane are their greatest offense,” he said emotionlessly, like we were talking of a basketball team. “Their defensive players rarely see any real action.”

“Because Jane can burn you where you stand—mentally at least. What does Alec do? Didn’t you once say he was even more dangerous than Jane?”

“Yes. In a way, he is the antidote to Jane. She makes you feel the worst pain imaginable. Alec, on the other hand, makes you feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. Sometimes, when the Volturi are feeling kind, they have Alec anesthetize someone before he is executed. If he has surrendered or pleased them in some other way.”

“Anesthetic? But how is that more dangerous than Jane?”

“Because he cuts off your senses altogether. No pain, but also no sight or sound or smell. Total sensory deprivation. You are utterly alone in the blackness. You don’t even feel it when they burn you.”

I shivered. Was this the best we could hope for? To not see or feel death when it came?

“That would make him only equally as dangerous as Jane,” Edward went on in the same detached voice, “in that they both can incapacitate you, make you into a helpless target. The difference between them is like the difference between Aro and me. Aro hears the mind of only one person at a time. Jane can only hurt the one object of her focus. I can hear everyone at the same time.”

I felt cold as I saw where he was going. “And Alec can incapacitate us all at the same time?” I whispered.

“Yes,” he said. “If he uses his gift against us, we will all stand blind and deaf until they get around to killing us—maybe they’ll simply burn us without bothering to tear us apart first. Oh, we could try to fight, but we’ll be more likely to hurt one another than we would be to hurt one of them.”

We walked in silence for a few seconds.

An idea was shaping itself in my head. Not very promising, but better than nothing.

“Do you think Alec is a very good fighter?” I asked. “Aside from what he can do, I mean. If he had to fight without his gift. I wonder if he’s ever even tried. . . .”

Edward glanced at me sharply. “What are you thinking?”

I looked straight ahead. “Well, he probably can’t do that to me, can he? If what he does is like Aro and Jane and you. Maybe… if he’s never really had to defend himself… and I learned a few tricks—”

“He’s been with the Volturi for centuries,” Edward cut me off, his voice abruptly panicked. He was probably seeing the same image in his head that I was: the Cullens standing helpless, senseless pillars on the killing field—all but me. I’d be the only one who could fight. “Yes, you’re surely immune to his power, but you are still a newborn, Bella. I can’t make you that strong a fighter in a few weeks. I’m sure he’s had training.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It’s the one thing I can do that no one else can. Even if I can just distract him for a while—” Could I last long enough to give the others a chance?

“Please, Bella,” Edward said through his teeth. “Let’s not talk about this.”

“Be reasonable.”

“I will try to teach you what I can, but please don’t make me think about you sacrificing yourself as a diversion—” He choked, and didn’t finish.

I nodded. I would keep my plans to myself, then. First Alec and then, if I was miraculously lucky enough to win, Jane. If I could only even things out—remove the Volturi’s overwhelming offensive advantage. Maybe then there was a chance.… My mind raced ahead. What if I was able to distract or even take them out? Honestly, why would either Jane or Alec ever have needed to learn battle skills? I couldn’t imagine petulant little Jane surrendering her advantage, even to learn.